


You Could Catch Fire

by AlmaMeDuele



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brother Feels, Campfires, Comrades in Arms, Cowboy Antics, Drinking & Talking, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Piercings, Pining Hanzo, Post-Recall, Post-Reflections, Slow-ish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmaMeDuele/pseuds/AlmaMeDuele
Summary: Intending to mend ties with his brother, Hanzo Shimada signs up with recalled Overwatch and meets the outlaw bounty hunter Jesse McCree. Two loners get to know each other between missions with a covert group of heroes trying to see the world for what it could be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> \- Thank you for reading! This fic is another storytelling exercise on how McCree and Hanzo might meet, get to know each other, and become a couple. It takes place in the timeline after the _Reflections_ comic released at the end of 2016. Co-creation, art, inspiration, and headcanons are from [Jamie!](http://www.twitter.com/jamiekinosian)  
>  \- This fic is rated M for Mature. There will be adult content throughout it, including sexual imagery and scenes, crude language, combat violence, tobacco/alcohol use, and emotional tension.  
> \- Due to the M rating, minors/non-adults should not read this work.  
> \- Chapter-specific tags will contain more detailed content warnings.  
> \- You can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/almameduele) or [Tumblr.](https://arcanebarrage.tumblr.com)

He made the call two days after Christmas. Each morning he got up from his narrow hotel bed, pushed back the curtains, and peered through the window of his room on the twenty-third floor. Osaka stretched around him, dense and metropolitan. Skyscrapers flanked his view, obscuring the horizon. Hover-cars trickled through the streets like the traffic of shiny ants.

Then he would stare at his cell phone, which was hooked into the wall charger. The charging panel had a clock with green numbers. It was like a ritual for Hanzo: five minutes of staring at the clock, five digital tally marks slashed across the screen, and time was up. He would accept that it was not the right day, and then he would get up to face whatever the not-right day might bring.

On some days, he stayed in the city. He wandered for hours around parks and train stations, areas packed with people and crowds. A few times, he crossed the river and hitchhiked north to Ikeda, where he could pay his respects at the beautiful Atago Shrine. A cool, wintry quiet seeped into the mountains and woods around the shrine, isolating it from urban noise even on busy days. He could sit under the cold pines and do nothing, feel nothing, _be_ nothing. Tranquil as a piece of wood.  

But that morning, the window revealed a sheet of ashen clouds. He turned on the wall telescreen and flipped channels to the weather forecast. Clad in a red jacket, an Omnic meteorologist stood before a map of the region and predicted a sprinkling of snow before the new year. A rare occurrence, the Omnic droned, though not unwelcome after an unusually dry fall.

Hanzo’s throat tightened. Within seconds, he made up his mind. Today was the day, and he would make the call.

He huddled on the edge of the bed and looked around. The walls surrounding him were papered black, stark with no pattern. A charcoal-colored stain smudged the corner of the ceiling. Hanzo would lie on the bed at night and wonder how it got there -- how _he_ got there, after sequencing the bland, forgettable lodgings that came before it. He had rented the room for a week; prior to that, a different hotel for two weeks, and the previous one for three.

Or was it four weeks? A month? Days dissolved into units of time that calendars did not measure, long stretches that disappeared like leaves washing down a culvert.

Hanzo lowered the telescreen volume, punched in the call-code, and held the handset to his ear as if it were made of dense steel. Not a phone, but a loaded weapon.

The dial tone rattled into three connecting clicks. To his surprise, a woman answered. Her voice was low and gentle.

“Greetings,” she said. “This is Athena. How may I assist you?”

Hanzo frowned. He had never called this number before, and had not expected this voice.

Curtly he replied, “hello?”

“Hello.”

He cleared his throat. “Hello, I--”

“Hello.” The line buzzed with static. “How are you, Mister Shimada?”

He froze. How did she know? Most phone systems would inform the receiver of the caller’s location, but his should only display Osaka, at most the name of the hotel. Beyond that, he booked the room using an alias. Hearing his real name sent a chill up his spine. If anyone tapped the line -- if there were security exploits in the phone, or bugs that a hacker could exploit--

“Mister Shimada,” she prompted.

“Perhaps there has been a mistake,” he said quickly. “I received this code from a private owner, I was told it would open a secure line--”

“From the Green Leaf Hotel in Chūō-ku, Osaka, Japan. The line is quite secure.” Athena's tone turned mirthful. “Have you been to visit the castle, Mister Shimada? I understand it is considerably beautiful in the winter.”

Hanzo stammered. "Ah, no-- I have not." After a pause, "as I said, I think there has been a mistake.”

“We have been expecting your call. Agent Genji confirmed that he had given you this access code, and that you would issue contact with us before the new year.”

 _Us._ Hanzo fixated on the word. Who else was behind the line with this person?

“Apologies,” he said in a tone that was not apologetic, “but does this code not belong to him?”

“No, Mister Shimada. It belongs to an organization.”

“What organization?”

Without missing a beat. “Overwatch.”

“I see. Could you please hold for a moment?”

“Of course, Mister Shimada.”

Silence settled over the line. Hanzo lowered the handset and drummed his fingertips against his knee. He had not expected anyone but Genji to answer, nor did he know what to make of the polite, accented voice that slid through the earpiece. The word _Overwatch_ hung in his ears like an iron weight.

Finally he put the phone back to his ear and asked, “are you still there?”

The warm voice replied, “yes, I am.”

“Apologies,” Hanzo repeated, sincere this time. “It seems I was the one mistaken. You are certain this line is secure?”

“Yes, Mister Shimada.”

“Is there any way you could put me through to Genji?”

“He is not currently on the premises,” she said. “Agent Genji informed us that he had reached out to you twice about our Recall, once in May and again briefly in October. He requested that you speak to Winston if he was not physically present to answer.”

Hanzo’s brows furrowed. “Can you tell me where he is?”

“Winston is currently in his laboratory. I will let him know that you wish to speak to him--”

He pinched his nose, just below the metal barbell in his bridge. “No. Sorry. I meant Genji. Can you tell me where Genji is?”

Again without pausing, Athena said, “Nepal.”

“Nepal?” And then, a little less incredulously, "is there any way you can tell me what he is doing in--”

“Active Recall is established at the Watchpoint on Gibraltar,” she cut in. “Agent Genji has answered the call, but, like most of our agents, he has primary business to attend to elsewhere.”

“Can you tell me when he will return?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“When?”

“He will return either when his business is concluded, or in the event that you accept.”

 _Accept._ Hanzo rolled the word around on his tongue, mouthed it silently, and stared hard at the bleak carpet. 

Now he knew why Genji had given him this code. He shut his eyes and thought of Hanamura in the spring under a full moon. Genji's voice rang out in his memories, like a bell tone.

 _'The world is changing, Hanzo.'_  

“I understand,” he replied. He looked through the curtains at the frigid sky. “So what happens now?”

The line whirred with digital feedback as Athena spoke. “Winston has requested I transfer the call over to his laboratory. Will you hold while I do so?”

Hanzo closed his eyes. He did not know who Winston was, or the details of what he wanted to discuss. But the grey winter light swum through his eyelids, and he remembered the chance of snow. A shiver ran up his spine. 

Genji's voice came to him again, pleading softly:  _'_ _pick a side.'_  

“Yes,” Hanzo said finally. “That will be fine.”

\---

When the call ended, Hanzo set down his phone and rose to his feet. He stared at his reflection in the window from the shoulders up, taking in the thick neck, angular face, and firm nose. Dark eyes edged with crow’s feet, ears hooked with silver rings. A barbell between his brows and salt-white streaks in his beard. Black hair hung loose and uncombed around his hard cheeks; the shaved slopes of his head itched, but he did not scratch. He looked at himself in this moment: a man on the cusp of forty, drifting to the precipice of a new day.

The agreement was made. Arrangements were in the works. Tomorrow, he would head to Ikeda and climb the steps to Atago Shrine for a final visit. Then, he would go out to the woods and board the transport when it arrived at the rendezvous spot. Winston assured him that Tracer, the pilot, would be on time. 

“It is the correct thing to do,” he said to his reflection, and he believed it. Christmas was cold and hard to endure alone. He could not shake off the conviction that seeing snow, if it fell, would be impossible.

 _But nothing should ever be considered impossible_ , he told himself as he packed his bag. After what happened in Hanamura, nothing was out of his reach.

Like the shrine and the woods -- or a decommissioned Watchpoint in Gibraltar, where he was headed -- it was just far away.

**Author's Note:**

> \- References: [Atago Shrine.](http://www.osaka-info.jp/en/facilities/cat11/atago_shrine.html) [Osaka Castle.](http://www.osakacastle.net/english/)  
> \- This is written for and with the input of [Jamie,](http://www.twitter.com/jamiekinosian) who challenged me to try writing with different headcanons, characterizations, and inspirations than the ones I had while first planning my last fic for this 'ship.  
> \- I wanted to take a stab at another (shorter) story for how the pair might meet via Overwatch, and this time I wanted to re-analyze Hanzo and Jesse as heroes, adventurers, and potential partners. So the story comes in from a different angle and will take a different route than what I've written before. As the tags say, this is friends-to-lovers. If you like more fluff, pining, and building romantic tension, the progression here might be more your thing.  
> \- This fic is noted out to have about 5-6 chapters, with a minor plot, few characters, and a different look at some interpersonal connections between them. The 'burn' happens faster than my past writing, and the narrative focuses more on the main 'ship.  
> \- I feel like I was not as forthcoming in my past author notes about the kind of directions the story would be taking. Please pardon me for that, fanfiction and posting work in serialization is still kinda new to me. I'm going to make an effort to write more in them with next fics, including this one!  
> \- So, to start: the title will make more sense in a few chapters. So will Hanzo's reasons for being in Osaka, and what happened in October, the agreement, Genji, what Overwatch is up to, and much more...  
> \- Artwork is also by Jamie. Thank you so much!!  
> \- Also big thank you to my beta and sensitivity readers for being patient and reading all my WIPs for 2017!!


End file.
